


If Beauty were Time, you'd be Eternity

by AgeOfMiracles



Series: Arthur and Eames through the years [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Offscreen non- con, Plot suddenly appears halfway through
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 05:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15599619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgeOfMiracles/pseuds/AgeOfMiracles
Summary: Arthur at 0 saw the lights on the ceiling and the twinkling laughs, and wide smiles as something from another world. As strange green aliens with their chubby fingertips come to take him to faraway places. Arthur at 0 was very imaginative.





	If Beauty were Time, you'd be Eternity

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be short sentences throughout Arthur's life but halfway through developed a plot?? I blame Eames, he kind of just crept in.

Arthur at age 0, contrary to popular belief was not born with slicked back dark hair with a permanent scowl. He was in fact a chubby and pink-faced baby was thick curly light brown hair, gurgling happily as his mother and father laughed away at him. Arthur at 0 saw the lights on the ceiling and the twinkling laughs, and wide smiles as something from another world. As strange green aliens with their chubby fingertips come to take him to faraway places. Arthur at 0 was very imaginative. 

 

Arthur at 2 waddled around, staring awed-like into mirrors and clinging to his parent’s clothes. He still gurgled happily at flickering lights and his mother’s bright smile and his father’s boisterous grin. Arthur at 2 giggled and tried to touch the night sky when his parents took him down to the beach. He played with the sand, chucking it like handfuls of candies being thrown around at a party in a massive ballroom where animals like tigers and elephants roamed. Arthur at 2 was very imaginative. 

 

Arthur at 5 ran everywhere. To kindergarten, to the shops, into his father’s arms. He ran to the swings and climbed on. Arthur at 5, swung as hard and as high as his little legs could. He swung to throw himself into the clouds where strange creatures like unicorns and goblins and giants and very big ants danced and laughed in the fluffy white clusters. He would be playing the cello for them; he really liked the cello. Arthur at 5 was very imaginative.

 

Arthur at 8 lay in his bed, the glowing ceiling stick- ons staring down at him. They were taking him to the beach. The dolphins swam with the penguins, splashing in the waves, the turtles would build sandcastles big enough for him to walk around in like royalty as the fish pulled out violins and cellos and electric guitars and played for him until the moon shone. Arthur at 8, dragged his parents around to all his cello shows and to the park for a different flavour of ice cream every time. He would never notice how his parents didn’t talk to each other, how they would whisper angrily at each other when he turned away. Arthur at 8 was as imaginative as he would get for a very long time.

 

Arthur at 10 crouched behind the couch, holding his knees tightly as his parents screamed at each other in the next room. He cried silent tears, his cheeks pale and cold as the front door was left open for hours after his father stormed out. Arthur at 10 stayed there until his mother closed it after throwing out every last piece of his father. The clothes, shoes, books, photographs stayed outside for some time before a car pulled up and then it was all gone. That was the last time Arthur would see his father until many years later when he knelt in front of a well-worn gravestone. It would read- I sit on a graveyard of my dreams. Arthur at 10 sat beside his mother as she clung to his hand and pointed out all the stars she knew to him. Arthur at 10 decided he didn’t want any more parties in the sky if his father couldn’t come. Arthur at 10 had a passing thought – why do I need to imagine such silly things anymore?

 

Arthur at 14 wasn’t crying as he held his mother’s lifeless hand. He was smiling at his mother as she pointed out all the star patterns and said they looked like cellos. He would laugh with her, but he didn’t think they looked much like anything. His mother would be too busy laughing and showing him the stars to notice the car on their side of the highway. Arthur at 14 would leave his broken mother behind with his broken cello as the red and blue lights ignited in the sky and took him away. Arthur at 14 would leave his home for some stranger’s house in the middle of the night. The stranger’s husband was not a nice man. Arthur at 14 no longer looked at the stars except when he studied astronomy at school but then the patterns in the sky would make sense, of course they couldn’t be cellos. 

 

Arthur at 16 saw the red and blue lights again as they took him away from the stranger’s house and the stranger’s not nice husband. Men in jackets and wrinkled blue shirts would ask him to elaborate on his experience at that house. We can put them away for longer, they would say. Arthur at 16 thought he had elaborated enough for the stranger’s not nice husband who liked to come into his room at odd times. Personally, he thought a more final destination would be better for the stranger’s not nice husband. Personally, he didn’t think the men in blue would appreciate that thought. 

 

Arthur at 19 was covered in dirt and mud and leaves in the pink of his gums as he bared his teeth at the other soldiers in front of him. Arthur at 19 didn’t like incompetency. The men in front of him didn’t like that a young boy scolded them for their stupidity. Personally, he thought if they couldn’t do their jobs right then they had no business in the armed forces US Rangers. Arthur at 19 was a good soldier because he refused to think about what ifs. What ifs were dangerous, and he needed to know every single piece of information, so he could get these ineffectual men back to base safely even if they didn’t thank him for it.

 

Arthur at 22 was ruthless. He had a plan for every contingency, for every time a what if could become involved. He laid out his rules and expected obedience, he had been told on numerous occasions that he was the best, so he did his job and commanded, and any idiots who disobeyed would be put down and not gently. The jobs allocated to him and his team were hard, sometimes Arthur would wake up in a sweat, memories forming around him of screams; of pain, fear and hate, but he would get them through. Even when the colonel thought that an extra pair of hands, British hands for god’s sake, would be helpful. Arthur at 22, ignored this man, his awful accent paired with words that made no sense and his horrific sense of style. Well, Arthur at 22 tried his best at least.  
“Come on now pet, at least acknowledge that my idea might be helpful,” the idiot whined. 

“Or it could get us all killed, Eames” Arthur at 25 shoots back, grinding his teeth in frustration.

“Notice the crucial or there darling Arthur,” Eames grinned as Arthur clenched his fists for about the fifth time. “I am perfectly confident in your wonderfully competent abilities to get us all through this alive and well, perhaps you’ll even be grudgingly happy enough to finally allow me to buy you that drink.”

“Fine.” Arthur managed to grit out. He could just feel the oncoming headache.

“Which part love?”

“Eames.”

 

Arthur at 24 was not happy dammit. 

“Well that could have gone better I admit” Eames ventured as he dried himself off. Arthur just growled in his muddy water-soaked uniform. 

“Oh, come now darling you can’t stay mad at me forever.” Arthur resolutely ignored him in favour cleaning his shoes of god knows what.

“We got the job done, all it takes is some creative thinking is all.”

“Well maybe if we had gone with my plan, we wouldn’t have needed to think creatively at the bottom of a fucking river Eames!” Eames didn’t even have the decency to look contrite the bastard, I ought to strangle him with his own shoelace, Arthur thought viciously.

“Ooh swearing are we petal. I almost thought you didn’t have it in you and honestly Arthur, there’s nothing wrong with using a bit of imagination to get us out of sticky situations.”

“Your imagination is going to get us killed and I am not in the mood to be killed because of incompetency. If you want to be imaginative be a goddamn writer.” Deep breaths Arthur, it’s just Eames riling you up. You know he gets a kick out of it. Arthur repeated this mantra until he could look at the bastard without wanting to gouge out his retina. Nope, didn’t work Arthur glared, his eyes straying to the knife a few metres away. Surely no one would care.

 

Arthur at 27 was alone. His best friend in the world had jumped off a hotel balcony. Leaving behind a broken husband and a lost best friend running across the world after him. He was alone and heartbroken on the inside, but the outside had to be strong for his other best friend in the world. He didn’t know what to do or say around Dom, afraid if he mentioned Mal, the man might shatter. More than anything he wanted Eames. Wanted but could never have. The other man had made that quite clear. Oh darling, you know me, never could stay still for long, he’d said. Arthur at 27 felt like an elastic band stretched right to breaking point, just one more step and he would snap. God, did he miss Eames arms and his voice whispering in his ear, even his backhanded compliments and thinly veiled sexual allusions. But Arthur at 27 could dream as much as he promised himself he wouldn’t, Eames was still halfway across the world, drinking and gambling and seeing scores of other men and women, and Arthur was trying his best to put together a broken man and he was alone. 

 

Arthur at 29 was regarded as the best point man in the dream sharing business, working with Dominic Cobb who pulled off inception, one of the best chemists, an up and coming architect with astounding imagination and Eames, the world’s best forger. There was no shortage of work for any of them as the best dream-sharing team but after the Fisher job unsurprisingly, reality became more enticing. Cobb had his kids again and refused to return to the world he lost his wife and years of his life too. 

“You’ll come to visit won’t you Arthur?” Dom questioned worriedly, “the kids miss you when you’re gone so do I.” Arthur had smiled as best he could.

“Of course, wouldn’t miss a chance to see my god-kids.” Dom clapped him on the shoulder. 

“If you need anything, I’m here. You’re my brother Arthur, I know I haven’t always done right by you or thanked you for everything you’ve done for me and to get me back home to my kids, but you are family and we will always be here when you need us.” Arthur felt like he could cry so he buried his face in Cobb’s shoulder and whispered a muffled thank you. He left after saying goodbye to James and Phillipa but did go visit and called almost every week. Ariadne returned to school to continue studying architecture but also decided she would like to study psychology as a better way to help people. Her imagination was no less amazing. Yusuf went home to his girlfriend and Saito continued to take over the business world. Arthur was in London. He had no idea why, it wasn’t like he expected Eames to return to a place he hadn’t seen since he left his home at 14. After three days, he was ready to leave. What was he even waiting for? Eames to waltz in through the door saying darling I want you with me forever. Only a fool has such dreams and Arthur was no fool. So why was it every night he dreamed about Eames. 

 

Arthur at 29 had spent 8 days in London. The weather was abysmal, wet and cloudy, people still bustling around with their umbrellas. Taxis rushing through the crowded streets and despite his best attempts Arthur loved it even if every time he heard someone saying darling, it was like a stab to the heart. Arthur carried his brown paper bags filled to the brim with strange ingredients and food items. Strangely enough, Arthur found when he took the time, he was an adequate cook. He enjoyed trying recipes from all over the world, it stopped his mind from wandering to places he didn’t want it to go. He fitted his key neatly in the lock and used his back to push through the doorway. Placing the bags at his feet, he removed his sopping wet coat, still dripping from the downpour outside. A brisk wind tickled his cheek from the open window.

“Shit” Arthur murmured as he noticed the puddles in the wood panelling of the floor. He rushed over and attempted to shove the window back down. 

“Sorry about that darling, I thought the front door might have more security than a lock and key. Apparently, I was wrong. Growing complacent or were you waiting for someone?” Arthur let go of the glass in shock, the window coming down closed on his fingers.

“Ow shit!” Arthur yanked his hand back. His fingers were throbbing but not broken or bruised. He felt a shadow appear at his back and the heavy warmth of a body along his spine as Eames tenderly took his hand between two larger calloused hands. Arthur stopped breathing.

“Well, looks like I’m apologising again. Really petal, I’m worried now. Maybe you are getting a bit complacent.”

“Fuck off Mr Eames. I didn’t think anybody would come looking for me. I don’t leave loose ends,” Arthur snapped, snatching his hand back then immediately wincing at the sharp pain that seared up his arm.

“You weren’t waiting for anybody by chance?”

“No.”

“Really Arthur? You decided to settle in London of all places. You could have chosen to be closer to Cobb and his rug rats or somewhere sunny to work on your tan. You really are very pale darling.” Eames grinned like a shark.

“I like this weather and this part of the world,” Arthur ground back looking at the floorboards.

“Oh, and it just happens to be within driving distance of where I grew up does it?” Arthur stiffened. Arrogant, self-serving bastard. He was right but how dare he call him out on it.

“If you’re insinuating that my decision to live here has something to do with you I will shoot you right now.”

“Darling, you never leave a trail when you want to disappear, not even Cobb can find you. But this time you did. Still bloody difficult if you ask me but you were always fun like that. This time I found a trail to lead me here, miles out from my old home, in a place I swore never to return to.”

“Well, maybe you are the last person I wanted to find me since you swore to never set foot in the area again.” Eames took a step closer to him, pushing his lightly against the glass.

“Or maybe you wanted to test me. You wanted me to find you and you wanted me to be sure.” Eames pressed closer still. His nose almost brushing his. Arthur took a short, stilted breath in.

“Be sure of what?” Eames grinned again.

“That I really wanted you and this time forever.” Arthur closed his eyes as Eames gently brushed against his lips with a finger.

“I admit I thought it would be an easier decision than it was. Most of time I was piss drunk in a bar or hotel room before I pulled myself together.” Arthur inhaled slowly against the finger still brushing his lips and Eames carefully took his waist with his free hand.

“And what was your decision?”

“I am here, aren’t I?” Arthur pushed himself away and backed up into the kitchen. Eames followed.

“No, we are not doing this again. This time you have to say it and you must mean it. I’ll never know what you want from me if I let you pick up where we left off. Avoiding all the things we should have said.” 

“Ok.” Eames lunged forward and grabbed him with both arms reeling him in. Arthur for the first time in their history did not object. 

“I want this, you,” He whispered in his ear. “I want to have you forever, if you’ll let me?” Arthur shuddered and rested in cheek on Eames chest listening to his heartbeat as if it held all his secrets inside. Eames pulled back.

“Arthur, darling, pet, love. I know I messed up with us before. I know I pushed you away. I don’t do relationships. I never have. But I never had you before, did I? You’re abrasive, incredibly stubborn, persistent and you never let anyone know when they’ve hurt you. You have the most beautiful and capable and deadly mind I have ever seen. And you’ll never tell anyone that you’re afraid of dreaming, to imagine all the wonderful things I know you’re capable of but most of all, I think you’re afraid of how much you love to dream. I know who hurt you and I would kill him again if I could. I know that people have hurt you enough that you’ve locked yourself away in this little chest in the very deepest darkest depths of your mind.” Arthur looked away, not willing to admit the tears hiding in his eyes. 

“You don’t know that. Maybe I’m just not fit to dream. I’m not like you or Cobb or Ariadne. I can’t just dream whatever I wish, I don’t know how. You said so yourself many times, I have no imagination.” Eames rested against his forehead.

“I know that, and I was stupid and jealous and wrong. I know that now. But you’re wrong too. You are a better dreamer than any of us. Let yourself of the chest, Arthur. You don’t need to be that scared child who was hurt by everyone he ever met. I’m here and I’ll never hurt you again. Just please come out of the chest.” Eames wiped his thumbs under Arthur’s eyes, drying all the tears escaping down his cheeks. 

“Let me protect you and hold you. Let me love you like you’ve always deserved. Like I should have years ago.” Arthur hid in his hands and let Eames pull his close again.

“I’m here and I want to be here.”

“Forever ever?” Arthur whispered. Eames chuckled.

“For eternity darling.”


End file.
